


Corner of the World 5: Sick

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [5]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2011-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex gets sick, and Clark takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 5: Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Set before 1x05 _Cool_

I hate all of this, really, I do. My idea of fun is not blackmailing a pathetic loser out to make a few thousand bucks off my past mistakes. It's not setting Damien on his trail to find out exactly where this reporter came from and how he could be exploited. It's not finding the perfect way to find out what really happened the day I died fall into my lap at the perfect time.

The perfect time being a few days after I came to an inescapable conclusion: I did hit Clark that day, just like I thought. I hit him. Clark lied.

Oh. And that I appear to be telepathic.

"Fuck," I sigh, downing my Scotch and pouring another.

It wasn't entirely new to me, but it was something I'd tried to suppress. When I was younger, before the accident, I sometimes 'heard' other people's thoughts. I didn't realize it, not exactly, but at the same time, I knew the strange thoughts in my head weren't mine. Everyone's voice sounds different; the same holds true for mental voices.

It scared me, thinking thoughts that weren't my own. Trying to talk about it with my parents was a disaster. My mother thought I had a wonderful imagination. My father thought I was lying. I learned to keep what I heard to myself.

The only major trouble with the telepathy came when I was eight. It was the first time I was in a very large crowd in a very small place with everyone projecting their thoughts with all their might. Dad had a party for the elite of Metropolis. While everyone was perfectly pleasant on the outside, on the inside they were vile. They walked around smiling and being pleasant while thinking the most horrible and vitriolic thoughts imaginable. And I heard everything.

I couldn't handle it. I threw up on Dad's shoes, then fell to the floor, clutching my ears and sobbing for everyone to Just. Stop. Shouting.

Dad had me in therapy for a year.

Then the accident happened, and I was hit by meteors. The last person I ever heard in my mind was the kid crucified in the field. And then, no one.

Until Clark called to me Homecoming night. That's when it started again, but it's different. Now, it's only him. And I saw his dream, his version of the accident.

"I hit him," I told my Porsche.

It didn't seem to care, but sat there, accusingly silent. Of course I hit him; there was a Clark-sized dent in the hood.

I sneezed and took another drink of Scotch.

It's occurred to me many, many times since waking up with Clark in the tree house, knowing that I dreamed his dream with him, I could just force my way into his mind to get the truth like that. There must be a way to control this gift, just like there is a way to control almost anything. If I concentrate hard enough, think with enough effort, I'll bet I could get in. Read his mind. Find the truth.

I deserve the truth, don't I?

But I'm not a rapist. Forcing my way in would be too much like rape, too much like violating him. Not his body, but his mind, which is probably even worse. And I just couldn't bring myself to do that. Or contemplate it all that seriously. It makes me sick.

At that thought, I started coughing violently, my chest heaving against the growing congestion. My head, which had been hurting all night, began to throb. Already tired and sore in places, I began to realize that more than anything I wanted to just lie down.

The thought I might be sick crossed my mind, and I swore.

"I don'd need this," I tell the Porsche.

Once again, totally unimpressed.

I sighed, downed the last bit of my Scotch, and headed upstairs to bed. Maybe if I slept for a few hours everything would be fine.

Right. And maybe Clark will show up, tell me the truth, then ask me to fuck him. Not in this lifetime.

***

The alarm clock was shrill, loud, and annoying. It cut through the crisp morning air like a siren, pounding into Lex's head, irritating him completely.

Groaning, Lex blindly thrust his arm out of the warm burrow of blankets he was buried under, trying to find the source of the disturbance. When he couldn't find it, he sat up, and threw a pillow in the general direction.

There was a loud crash. The noise stopped. Relieved, Lex sank back down, pulling his thick comforter over his head, ready to go back to sleep.

It occurred to him that he was sweating, which was funny, considering how cold he was. His nose was completely stuffed up, he couldn't breathe, and his entire body was one giant ache. Sleep lapped at him in gentle, beckoning waves, inviting him to go back to the warm, happy place where he could dream of hot chocolate, whipped cream, and naked Clark.

He had just drifted back off when the door opened.

"Sir?"

Damien's voice jerked Lex out of the hazy doze. He sniffed violently, pain lancing through his sinuses as it became obvious that the passageway was blocked.

"Go away," he moaned, tugging a pillow over his head.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do that. You know your orders," Damien said in a tone that was-not-quite-but-almost amused.

"I don'd care aboud my orders. I wand to sleep," Lex told him, rolling onto his back, keeping his eyes shut.

A weight settled on the bed next to him and Lex could hear the curtains being opened. "Are you feeling all right, sir?"

Conceding defeat, Lex pushed his comforter off his face and sat up. "I'mb find," he said crankily, scrubbing his eyes with one hand. His lashes were glued together with sleep.

"You neither sound nor look fine," responded Damien, his oh-so British voice sounding concerned.

Shivering violently, Lex shook his head. "I'mb find. Can I hab my coffee?"

Damien shook his head. "You shouldn't drink coffee when you are ill. I'll have Mabel prepare some tea. Until then, you may have juice." He reached out to Lex.

Startled, Lex pulled away so violently he upset the tray. It fell to the floor with a loud crash that reverberated in his ears. "Whad the fug are you doing?" he demanded.

"Attempting to ascertain if you have a fever. How is your breathing?"

"Find. If nod being able to breed if find." Lex looked longingly at the spilled pitcher of juice. "Did you bring any more?"

"Yes, but it's on the invisible tray," Damien answered dryly. "Stay in bed while I get more. I'll cancel your appointments today and call your doctor." He began to gather up the tray.

Lex shook his head. "I can'd tage off. My father will kill me. I have two teleconferences, two meedings, and I'm supposed to go over that new compound wid the lab. I'mb a busy man."

Damien's eyes were dark. "I do not want a repeat of last winter, sir."

Sliding out of bed, Lex tied his robe tightly around him, but not before Damien's eyes traced the finger shaped bruises on his body for what had to be the twentieth time. "If you don'd like dealing wid me, quid."

"I believe I'm too deeply involved in your family and private business for that to be a wise decision for me and my career." He rose with the tray. "I'll have Mabel prepare another breakfast and some tea."

"I'll ead downstairs."

"Very good, sir." With those last dignified words, Damien left.

"Fug, fug, fug," Lex said before he was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing that sent him to the floor. His chest was so congested, it was hard to draw air, but he had to go to work. The last thing he wanted was for his father to find out he was sick again. He and Lex had an ongoing battle over Lex's frequent illnesses. Lex getting sick so soon after moving would piss his father off.

Lionel was already frustrated with the extra accommodations for Lex's health as it was. Kansas did not agree with Lex's asthma, and the castle made it even worse. Dust, pollen, cold, and mold all triggered Lex's asthma. Even though he had mostly grown out of it, the allergies had intensified once he moved to Smallville. Lionel was forced to pay extra to have Lex's rooms cleaned every day, the rest of the house cleaned monthly, and the entire castle picked through for mold. He had figured that Lex would need only Mabel and Damien for daily use, and a cleaning crew to come through once a week. Lex felt that Lionel actually thought that Lex was doing it on purpose to make Lionel spend more money on him.

Getting sick would enrage him further. Which was why Lex had to go to work and pretend that everything was fine. Their battles over management and business were acceptable; getting into a fight over his health was a waste of time. Besides, Lex was certain he could tough it out.

With a final hard cough, Lex rose and went the bathroom. After he had washed up, he tried to decide what to wear.

"Layers," he muttered. He was shivery and cold and hot and sweaty all at once. Layers would help keep him warm and were easy to take off if he needed to.

He was just pulling on his topmost shirt when the door opened.

"I said I'd ead downstairs, Damiend," Lex said, highly exasperated.

"It's me. Clark."

Lex spun. Dressed in blue jeans and blue and red striped sweater, hair shiny and beautiful, eyes wide and staring at him, was Clark Kent.

"Clarg!"

A strange expression crossed Clark's face, as if he were suppressing laughter. The corner of his lips curled and his eyes shone with merriment. "Hey, Lex. Are you sick?"

"No, nod ad all. I jusd thoughd talking funndy might amuse you. Whad are you doing here?" Lex walked over to Clark, a warm bubbly feeling rising in his stomach.

"You said drop by, morning or night. I thought I'd come see how you were before school."

Lex smiled. "Well, I'b been better. But I'mb happy to see you." He slid his hand over Clark's belly, curving around so it rested on the small of Clark's back. Leaning forward, Lex brushed his lips against Clark's cheek.

The boy turned his head and met Lex's lips, kissing him sweetly.

"Aren'd you afraid of catching my germs?" Lex asked softly in what probably would have been a sexy voice if he could say his 'ts' correctly without interference from the gallons of snot clogging his nose.

"No. I never get sick." Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, stroking gently along his spine. "This is my fault, isn't it?"

"Whad? For luring me into the tree house and keeping me there until it was cold and damp? No. For being so beautifully irresisdible I couldn't helb myself? Yes."

Clark laughed, kissing Lex's forehead. "Am I supposed to be sorry about that?"

"Are you?"

"Not really."

"Good." He kissed Clark's nose, then took him by the hand. "Hab you eaden breakfasd? Because I habn't, and I'd lige id if you'd join me." Lex pulled Clark out of the bedroom, leading him downstairs.

Clark obediently followed Lex. "Actually, I have eaten breakfast. I just…" He stopped short when Lex tried to pull him into the breakfast room, eyes fastened on Damien, whose back was currently to them.

"Clarg?"

"I have to get to school. I just wanted to see you before I went." He dropped Lex's hand, running it through his hair. A worried expression crossed his face. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Clarg, I'm find. I swear."

"You need Mom's chicken soup. Look, I'll come back over tomorrow morning with the recipe for Mabel. She can make it and you'll feel so much better. It works miracles, I swear. Whenever I'm depressed or something, I eat some and it makes everything right again."

Lex smiled a touch sadly. "Gread. Bring your mom's recipe so my coog can makge it. I'd like thad." His voice sounded hurt even to his ears.

Clark flushed and took Lex's hands in his. Tugging them into the hall, away from the door to the breakfast room, he wrapped his arms around Lex. "I'd ask Mom to make it, I swear, but she's been stressed lately. We're having problems, and she's kind of wrapped up in that. And I'm sure she'd be happy to make it anyway, but I don't want to add to the burden. Please don't be hurt. Please, please, please." He began kissing Lex, sinfully silky lips brushing over his eyes, nose, forehead, cheeks, lips, chin, everywhere.

Lex swayed dizzily, closing his eyes. His skin felt hyper sensitive. The teasing kisses enflamed his desire for the younger man, making him hungry for more.

He stopped the velvet lips with his, pressing hard into Clark's, tongue entering his mouth to caress his.

Clark accepted the kiss but soothed it, calming Lex's fevered pace and bringing him back to a semblance of normalcy. When their hungry kisses had calmed to something more suited for two people who were getting ready to face the rest of the world, Clark pulled away.

"You're not upset?" he asked.

"With someone like you watching oud for me? No." He kissed Clark again. "Go to school."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Feel better."

"I will." The kissed once more then Clark pulled away, a regretful expression on his face. Waving good-bye, he left the manor.

Lex sighed and wrapped his arms his body. He was cold again. "Tea. Tea will figx id." But he knew nothing could fix this feeling right now. Nothing but Clark.

***

 

"Clark, hey. I need to talk to you," Chloe said, pulling Clark aside as he was heading for class.

"Ok. What's up?"

Chloe looked troubled. She bit her lip, then said in a rush, "I know it's a little after the fact and all, but I've been feeling guilty all week. I want to apologize for the way I acted at the coffee house with you and Lex on Saturday."

Clark nodded. "Yeah. What happened, anyway? One moment you were fine, then you freaked or something."

"Yeah, I know." She took a deep breath. "Ok, it's like this. I know how you feel about him."

"You do?" Clark's eyes went wide, his heart beginning to pound. "How . . ."

"Please. The two of you look at each other as if you haven't had a decent meal in months and suddenly everything you want plus fifty pounds of chocolate is offered up to you, no charge. I've never seen you look at anyone like that, not even Lana."

Flustered, Clark dropped his backpack and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Chloe, please. You can't tell anyone, ok? Please."

"Don't worry, Clark, I won't. I know Smallville isn't exactly the most open minded place. I'm not going to say anything." She smiled at him, then said, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm not freaked by it."

"You're not? Then why. . ."

"Let me clarify. I'm not freaked that you like another guy. That parts fine. Remember, I'm into slash; I kinda have to be cool about it. It's just. . . well, he's . . ."

"Let me guess," Clark interrupted. "He's so much older than me."

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Well, yeah. And not that I normally have a problem with relationships that have an age disparity, but that's when both parties are adults. You're fifteen and he's twenty-one. If you were twenty and he was twenty-six, I'd be fine. Even if you were eighteen, I'd feel a little better. But you're fifteen and have lived in Smallville your entire life. He's twenty-one, rich, and has probably done more than you've ever imagined."

He pulled back, picking his backpack up and crossing his arms over his chest. "Right. So what does a guy like him want with a hick like me? Isn't that what you're saying?"

"No. I know what a guy like that wants with a kid like you. You're... you're beautiful, Clark," she told him, roses coloring her cheeks, "and sweet and nice. Easy prey for someone as charming and sophisticated as him."

"You don't know him, Chloe. He wouldn't do that to me. He's nice and he likes me. Lex isn't out to hurt me or use me or anything."

"Clark, you don't know that. You think you know him, but what he shows you may just be an act." Tentatively, she put her hand on his arm. "I don't want you getting hurt. And I'm afraid that he's going to do just that. That he's going to... uh, get you in a situation and coerce you into doing things that you're not ready for. The stereotype is the boyfriend who convinces his girlfriend that if she really loved him she would… well, you know. Just because you're a guy doesn't mean it won't happen to you."

Clark shook his head. "It won't happen to me."

"You can't know that."

"Yes, I can."

"How?"

"Because I said stop and he did." He felt his cheeks warm, but this was Chloe and he was going to meet her eyes without shame.

They were wide, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. "You mean you ..."

"We started."

"And then you..."

"Said I wasn't ready."

"And he..."

"Stopped. And made me set the rules. Lex said we weren't going to do anything I wasn't ready for. And that he wasn't going to do anything I couldn't say. If I want him to do something, I have to tell him." He sighed and dropped his arms. "Look, Chloe, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I can look out for myself. I know I seem like a dumb kid or something, but I have a mind of my own. I know how to say no and I have the strength to do it." He chucked her under the chin. "So don't worry about me."

"Would you worry about me? If it were me and Lex? Or me and some older guy?"

He thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "Probably."

"Then let me worry about you."

"But can you at least be happy for me? A little? He makes me happy. He makes me feel… like I have someone I can be around and just be me."

That was the wrong thing to say obviously. Chloe's eyes darkened and her mouth turned down. "I don't make you feel like that?"

Clark sighed. "Yeah, you do. You're my best friend. But it's different with Lex."

"Because Lex is your friend with perks." She smiled.

He returned her smile. "Great perks. He's a great kisser." And he blushed.

Chloe laughed and gestured towards the building. Together they started heading for class. "What about Lana?"

"I don't know. I guess I still want her. She's pretty and nice and . . ."

"And normal. Acceptable."

"Right."

"What will Lex think?"

He hitched on shoulder. "I doubt he expects me to change overnight. Besides, what's a crush compared to a friendship with perks?"

"If you had the chance, would you ask her out?"

He went silent, thinking. When they got to class, he still didn't have an answer. Just before the walked in, he finally said, "I don't know. Maybe."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Maybe that's something you need to talk about with you-know-who. Just to make sure everything is out in the open." Then she ducked under Clark's arm and walked through the door into class.

Clark followed, sitting down. Pulling out his notes, he sighed, thinking about his problem. To tell or not to tell? Lex deserved the truth. And while he couldn't be honest about him in all things, he could be honest in this.

"So," he thought, gazing out the window. "The question is, how do you tell the man you want to sleep with that you're still interested in a high school girl?"

How indeed.

***

"Sir?" a voice said softly from above Lex.

He jerked awake, making a strange snorting sound as he tried to breathe through his nose. Opening his eyes, he discovered that he had fallen asleep with his head on his desk. His hands pressed against his cheek, forehead damp with sweat. His throat was still killing him, his head ached, and he was drooling.

He blinked and sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yes, Damiend?"

Damien was standing before the desk with a mug of hot, steaming liquid. He handed it to Lex, disapproval and concern etched in his eyes. "The doctor is waiting in the lab to see you."

"Whad? I hab an appoindmend in lige fifdeen mineds. I can'd see the docdor now." He drank some of the hot tea gratefully. It soothed some of the scratchiness in his throat.

"I took the liberty of reschedualing your appointments, sir. They will take place later this week. And I stood in for you for the teleconference you slept through. The others were most understanding." Lex opened his mouth to protest, but Damien cut him off, "You have been sleeping on your desk for nearly two hours. You are in no shape to work and you need to see a doctor before this cold escalates into something larger. Come along."

Rising, Lex swayed dizzily on his feet. He propped himself on his desk, glaring at his assistant. "You should habe woken me up. I could habe dond the meeding."

"I don't think so, sir," was Damien's unflappable response as he led Lex out of the office and to his private elevator.

Level 2 of the plant contained the labs where Lex and a few exiled biochemists labored to create new fertilizer and compounds for Luthor Corp. Although known to the public, Lionel had suppressed the fact that the labs were operating, insisting that Plant 3 was strictly a fertilizer plant and nothing more. He wanted to keep what Lex worked on a secret, in hopes that his son would produce something that would be useful on the market. It was a competitive world and Lionel hoped that by keeping it a secret from his competitors, security would be tighter. So far, it was working.

Attached to the labs was a medical facility. It had always struck Lex as slightly sinister. Lionel insisted that every employee had a full medical examination when hired. Further, any illness or injury that took place during work hours was to be treated on sight by Luthor Corp physicians. It seemed like a benevolent thing to do; after all, all medical service was free. However, Lex knew that it was only free because Lionel wanted as strict control over his plant as possible. Everything that happened in any one of his plants was brought to his attention. That way he could use any information about the person as he chose. Lionel had the power to make or break men and that was a little awe inspiring.

At least, he did in theory. Lex suspected all the information gathered about each employee was ignored by his father. Plant 3 was small and out of the way; nothing interesting ever happened in Smallville. Lex, though, did not intend to duplicate his father's arrogance and casual dismissal of so small a town. If the information was available, no matter for how unscrupulous a purpose, Lex was determined to know it. Knowledge was power and Lex was determined to see any obstacle that came his way.

Lex had used the medical facility three times so far. His damned asthma was irritated by everything and he'd had several severe attacks since moving to Smallville. Dr. Pierce was beginning to move essential equipment, joking that Lex was a full time job and well worth the salary that Lionel paid him.

Lex didn't think it was a very funny joke.

Dr. Pierce was waiting for them, going over Lex's file. "I hear you aren't feeling well, young man," he said with the false air of someone who cares.

Scowling, Lex began peeling off his clothes, climbing onto the examination table. A nurse bustled around the area, prepping delicate instruments that Lex knew would soon be stuck in every orifice he had. "Jusd ged this ober wif, ok? I'mb nod in the mood to chad."

"Very well." He stuck the thermometer in Lex's ear, counted to ten, and pulled it out. "You're running a fever. What are his symptoms besides the congestion?" he asked Damien. His cold hands began running over Lex's neck, feeling his lymph nodes before pulling out the stethoscope.

As Dr. Pierce placed the freezing device on Lex's chest, causing the irate young man to swear at him, Damien answered, more for the nurse's benefit, since she was writing everything down, "Fever, chills, exhaustion, sneezing, that sort of thing. I believe he was having some trouble breathing earlier."

"Lex?"

Lex coughed, dizzy from the holding his breath and exhaling on the doctor's commands while Dr. Pierce listened to his heart and lungs. "A liddle. I had a coughing fid this morning thad was rough."

The doctor tisked, shaking his head. Checking Lex's ears, nose, and throat, he ran his hands over Lex's chest. "Where did you get the bruises?"

"Nowhere."

"Lex, this will go a lot easier if you tell me." He looked sternly into Lex's eyes. "Have you gotten back into the club scene? What was it called? Club Zero?"

"Id's not an S&M club."

"And that's not an answer."

He sighed. "No, I'mb nod going to sex clubs anymore. I was fooling around wid a friend and he god a liddle rough."

Dr. Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Were you using toys? Because those look like fingers."

"No toys."

The doctor sighed, taking the chart from the nurse and scribbling. His concerned face was firmly in place. "I'm going to have to do some extra blood work. Caroline, can you please take his blood for me?"

"Yes, Doctor," the nurse answered, gathering the equipment.

"Why extra work?" Lex asked, watching with trepidation as the nurse approached him with a needle and vials.

"I want to take some blood counts and run some extra tests. You shouldn't be bruising so easily. I want to check for leukemia; depending on what the tests say and what your symptoms are next time I see you, I may do a bone marrow biopsy as well."

Panic rising in his chest, Lex shook his head, barely noticing as the needle entered his arm. "I'mb nod thad sicg. They guy's jusd really strong. He was gripping me really hard."

"Well, we want to be safe. Speaking of which, when was the last time you had sex?"

Lex coughed, shaking his head. "Jesus, whad is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" He thought a moment. "Aboud four months ago wid a girl. And my lasd HIV tesd was negadive," he added, anticipating the next question.

"Well, you still might consider taking another test if you're going to be having a relationship with anyone. Just to be safe."

"I'll thing aboud it." He began coughing hard as the nurse finished up with his blood, head spinning.

The doctor whipped out his stethoscope, listening. "Caroline? Can you tell the lab that we're bringing Mr. Luthor in for his X-Rays now? And, Mr. Walters, can you see if there's a wheelchair anywhere?"

"Yes, Doctor," Caroline said, quickly leaving.

"I," cough, "don'd," wheeze "need," hack, "a wheelchair!"

Damien gave Lex a look before replying, "Yes, doctor," and leaving.

Dr. Pierce sighed, and put his stethoscope on Lex's back. "Do you feel you need a breathing treatment?"

Lex shook his head. "I'mb fine."

"It's that sort of insistence that landed you in the hospital last winter. Keep it up, and you'll wind up there again." Dr. Pierce pulled away and began writing on his prescription tab. "Have Damien fill this out immediately. Do you have a humidifier at home?"

"I don'd thing so. I didn'd bring one."

"You should get one. Ah, Mr. Walters, good. Thank you," he said as Damien entered with a wheelchair. "Should Lex start having trouble breathing, stick him in a steamy bathroom or over steam. That should help clear up some of the congestion. Get a humidifier as soon as you can; with him, it's always good to be prepared. Have him take his inhaler every two hours. If he still has trouble breathing, put him on a nebulizer and call the hospital. Make sure he stays in bed for the next two days . . ."

"I can'd," Lex protested, swiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"You can and you will," Dr. Pierce informed him. "If you don't want to wind up in the hospital, you'll stay in bed. If he isn't better in two days, call me and I'll come by."

"Understood, Doctor."  
Caroline re-entered. "They're ready for him, Doctor."

"Let's go. Lex, get in the wheelchair."

"Don'd wand to."

Jaw tight, Damien walked to the examination table, lifted Lex as if he weighed nothing, and sat him in the chair. "Stay," he ordered.

Lex crossed his arms over his chest, sniffing with as much wounded dignity as he could muster. "You're fired."

"Of course, sir," his assistant replied smoothly, wheeling Lex from the examination room.

The technicians took x-rays of his chest, then handed him back to Dr. Pierce who poked and prodded him a few more minutes, then released him. "Remember, Lex," he said warningly, "don't treat this lightly. Get lots of sleep, lots of fluids, and take your medicine. Just relax. I'll come out and see how you're doing next week."

"Gread," Lex said as dryly as he could manage, pulling his shirt on. "Cand I go now?"

Dr. Pierce nodded. "Go. Sleep. I'll call you if anything unusual turns up in your blood work." Then he looked at Damien. "Remember, Mr. Walters, if he gets worse..."

"Call you. Yes, Doctor, I understand."

Lex was pleased to note that Damien seemed to be getting annoyed at the good doctor as well.

"Good. Feel better, Lex."

Rolling his eyes, Lex, ignoring the wheelchair, stumbled out of the examination room and into the elevator. Damien stood behind him silently. After a long silence, Lex finally looked up at him.

"You're nod fired. Tage me homb now."

Damien nodded, so well trained, he didn't even look like he wanted to smile. "Yes sir."  
* * *  
Lex conked out on the ride home and woke up in bed around nine p.m. He was able to drink some orange juice, take his medicine, then fall asleep for five more hours. When he woke again, he couldn't breathe.

His fit kept him and Damien up for the better part of the morning. Terrified of hospitals as he was, Lex had literally begged, tears in his eyes, for Damien not to call the doctor, insisting that it would pass. For whatever reason, Damien agreed to give him until dawn. They did a breathing treatment, then had Lex sit in a steamy bathroom. However, Damien assured Lex that if he got worse or was still fighting to breath by dawn, he'd have to go to the hospital. If it cleared, they wouldn't mention the fit to Doctor Pierce

Lex lucked out. Around five the medicine and steam finally kicked in, causing some of the congestion to clear. Once Lex wasn't fighting for each breath, Damien sent him to sit in the bathroom steam to relax.

It helped. Alone in the bathroom, music playing, naked and warm, Lex managed to cough up some the phlegm that was threatening to choke him. He was utterly exhausted, struggling to keep his eyes open, yearning for bed.

And Clark, but that was beside the point.

Deciding he was ready to try and sleep again, Lex rose and pulled on a pair of very old blue and white stripped pajama bottoms. Belonging to a pair of pajamas that Lex had had since he was eighteen, they were the only things that didn't irritate his skin when he was sick. Old and well worn, they were comfortable against his hyper sensitive skin.

Glancing at the mirror, he ran his fingers over the fading bruises. Most of them were yellowing, but there were still a few that were purple. Lex thought they were kind of pretty. That, more than anything, proved that he had to be delirious. He'd never, never, had thought of bruises as pretty before. But then, before Clark, he had never thought another person's pain would be arousing. The boy evoked strange feelings and desires in Lex.

The bruises reminded him of Clark, which was not necessarily a good thing. Thinking of Clark made him horny. Being horny and sick was kind of awkward. No one wanted to fuck a sick person, especially a virginal, beautiful, farm boy.

But, he could think about it. Pleasant thoughts of Clark floating through his mind, Lex stumbled out of the bathroom in the general direction of his bed.

"What the hell is this?" a voice demanded.

Dread smacked into his stomach with the force of a cannon ball. Lex blinked and rubbed his eyes His happy thoughts faded and disappeared quickly. Standing in the middle of his room was his father was, waving a folder clearly marked "Chest X-Ray" in the air.

"Hello, Dad," Lex said, his voice thick and hoarse. "Whad brings you here?"

"This and a call from your doctor. And I want to know what that is all about."

"Well, thad would be my chest x-ray, and the call would be a breach of doctor/patient confidentiality."

"Why are you sick, Lex?"

Lex sighed, coughed, and answered, "Well, you see, it starts when a virus that enters the bloodstream and attacks red blood cells and then . . ."

"Don't get cute, Alexander," he said crisply. "You know what I mean."

"Whad do you wand me to tell you?" Lex shot back, exasperated. "Didn'd the doctor tell you the whole story when he called you? Isn'd thad why you have him do thad?"

Lionel arched his eyebrow. "Dr. Pierce can't tell a truth from a lie. I can. I want to hear you tell me how you got sick."

He sighed again and wiped his nose with his hand. There was a box of tissues by the bed, but he didn't feel much like walking over there; it was too close to his father. "A friend was playing in a foodball game, and I wend to see it. Id's fall righd now and was colder than I thoughd id would be. I god a little chilled." Lex coughed. "You know how I ged, Dad."

Lionel glared, his eyes hard. "Yes, I do know how you get. Which is why stuff like this," he tossed the x-ray onto the bed, "pisses me off so much. You can prevent these stupid little colds, Lex. It's perfectly manageable; it's not like you're an invalid. All you have to do is take some care with yourself and anyone can do that. Even you. Right?"

"Right, Dad, but . . ."

"I put you in charge of the plant thinking that you might take some responsibility over your life. I've indulged you, I suppose. Provided too much for your every need."

"Oh, fuck that. You put me into my own apardment for a year with hardly andy money. The apardmend was crap and I god sick and you god mad! And then last year when I was a good little boy and went to grad school like you wanted, stayed in a nice place with Damined at my beck and call, never had any fun, I got sick and whad did you do? You fucking pulled me oud of school!"

"Right," his father said crisply. "It was obvious that while you were still a student and only responsible for your studies - which you always found too easy anyway - you were not going to take proper care of yourself. That is why I decided to give you greater responsibility and put you in charge of the plant. I gave you an important job, a good house, and the best help you could ask for. I had hoped all this might motivate you to take care of yourself. You're not a child, Lex. You are an adult and I expect you to act like one. I do not appreciate getting phone calls from your doctor telling me that you are two steps away from the hospital!"

"Then tage him off your fucking payroll, Dad! Don'd have him call you every time I ged sick. I don'd need you here. I'be god this under control. Just go away." He broke off in a fit of coughing, holding his hand out to his father to indicate he wasn't done.

Lionel took a half step forward, but stopped when Lex fixed his glare on him.

Clearing his throat, Lex continued, "I'mb sorry that I'mb allergic to dust, and you hab to pay more than you wanted for a cleaning crew for the house. I'mb sorry thad your life was disturbed because I'be got a cold. I'mb sorry that you feel compelled to drive all the day oud here jusd to yell at me for getting sick. But, Jesus Chrisd, Dad. I ged enough of this from you ad work. I don'd need it in my personal life as well. I'mb not sick to make you mad. In fact, if it were up to me, I wouldn't be sick at all. I don'd do this for fun. I wanded to see a friend play, I got a little over chilled. I'mb sorry. Ok?" He cleared his throat again, crossing his arms over his chest, wishing he could drink some juice.

There was a strange expression on Lionel's face. Almost like... almost like he was sad. Which was ridiculous, of course, because he never got sad. That was a human emotion. But, his eyes lingered on Lex's face looking... well, something, but it was an emotion that Lex couldn't quite place. Lionel opened his mouth to say something and, for a wild moment, Lex thought he might say something... fatherly. Kind.

Instead, Lionel asked, "Where did you get those bruises?"

Shit.

Sniffing, Lex shrugged. "Uh... Damiend." If Damien knew that Lex was implying they had slept together, he would faint. Or, stare blankly at Lex; it was hard to tell with him.

"Damien," Lionel repeated. A cruel smile crossed his lips. "I don't think so, son."

"Why nod?" he asked, dismayed. After all, Lionel had bought the football lie; why not the lie about Damien.

"Your assistant may suck your dick, but he doesn't hold you. And those," he raked his eyes over the bruises, "weren't made by someone sucking your dick."

Ok, so Dad knew a little too much about Lex's relationship with his assistant. It almost made him want to ask about Lionel's relationship with his own assistant, but that would be treading into "Don't Want to Know" territory.

Instead, Lex looked him in the eyes, summoned all the charm and power he had learned through the years, and said, "Dad, id's none of your business."

Lionel wasn't impressed. "It could be. This is Smallville, Lex, not Metropolis. If you get involved in the wrong person, it could be disaster for the plant. I don't want any bad publicity; the whole robbery scandal was bad enough."

"I had nothing to do wid thad!"

"I know. But if you're fucking someone you shouldn't. . ."

"Dad, nod that I am, bud even if I was, it's 2001, not 1901. People are more open minded. Fuck, even the president can have an illicit affair and keeb office. Nod that I'mb having an illicit affair or sleeping with someone I sh..."

"Lex?" Clark interrupted, walking in without knocking. "Are you up? Damien said... oh. Hi," he said, stopping under Lionel's stern eyes.

Lex groaned softly, closing his eyes. Not now, God. Why now?

"Lex?" Lionel said very, very softly. His voice was soft and dangerous, the barest hint of steel under the velvet softness.

Taking a deep breath, Lex opened his eyes again. His smile felt a bit forced, but he was sick and wasn't up to putting on a good show. "Hey, Clark. Dad, this is Clark Kent, the kid who saved me. Clark, my dad, Lionel Luthor."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Clark said, offering his hand.

Lionel shook it, studying Clark as if he were an unknown alien species. Keeping a grip of Clark's hand, he said, "So, you're the Kent boy. You look nothing like Jonathan." He cocked his head, as if looking at Clark from another angle would reveal a hint of Jonathan in him. When it didn't work, Lionel shook his head, marveling, "God, I can't see anything of him in you," He raked his eyes over Clark's body. "Has he noticed that? I know he's not the most observant man, but you're pretty hard to miss."

"Uh, I'm adopted, sir," he responded politely, eyes flashing briefly at the not so thinly veiled insults.

"Ah. And why is that? You mother couldn't have children, or your father wouldn't put out?"

The blue eyes began to burn, but Clark kept his tone even when he answered, "They were trying, but then decided to give an orphan kid a chance. Sir."

"Yes, that sounds like Jonathan," Lionel said, nodding. "He was always tender hearted, too easy to take anything into his... home. He probably took one look at you and fell in love."

Lex's head snapped sharply, looking at Lionel. His voice sounded scornful but there was a hint of something else beneath it. Familiarity. The same tone one used when speaking of an old friend. Or, rather, in Lionel's case, it sounded like he was talking about a childhood pet. Too familiar for Lex to believe the relationship between Jonathan Kent and his father was strictly business. That it was, in fact, almost completely personal.

Technically, it was "Don't Want to Know" stuff. Lex, like all children, didn't want to know anything about his father's very private life. But... this involved a Kent. That made it officially "Need to Know," information.

Lex tried to wrap his mind around the idea of his father and Jonathan Kent together. Then he tried not to gag.

Meanwhile, Lionel was still studying Clark intently. "You have a good grip, Clark. You must be very strong." He dropped the hand. Lionel allowed his gaze to move from the boy to Lex, lingering on Lex's bruises speculatively, before returning to Clark's face.

It was about then that Clark began to blush. Rosy color spread from his perfect cheekbones across his face and down his neck until he was as red as his sweater. Clark blushing meant nothing to someone who knew him; after all, Clark blushed at everything. Plus, the way Lionel was studying him was enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

But... Lionel was a very suspicious and discerning man. He would have noticed certain things. Such as the fact that Clark had casually walked into the room as if he were comfortable with doing so. Clark obviously had some sort of relationship with Lex. Clark was a beautiful, gorgeous, well built, perfect male which, as his father was well aware, was just Lex's type. Clark was obviously strong. Add all that to the sin of blushing and Lionel had the answer to his question.

Which pissed Lex off. His dad was going to take an innocent thing like Clark blushing and believe that he and Lex were having an affair. It didn't matter that Lionel was right. It didn't matter that Lex knew he was doing something he shouldn't. . .or, rather, that he wanted to do someone he shouldn't. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he was caught on such stupid and flimsy yet damming evidence.

"Are you, Clark? Strong, I mean?"

Clark shrugged, dropping his eyes. "I guess."

"Well, a hero should be, shouldn't he? You probably used that strength of yours to rescue my son."

"I don't know. I mean, yeah. I guess I did."

Lionel smiled a slow, scary smile that made Lex shudder. "I am very grateful that you did. Has Lex rewarded you yet?"

"Well, he tried to give me a truck, but . . ."

"No, no, no." Lionel waved that away. "A truck isn't a reward. That's just a gift. Which I'm sure your father made you return."

"Yes sir."

"Clark," Lex interrupted, hoping to stop his father before Clark caught onto what his father was insinuating, "did you need something?"

Clark's head snapped up and his eyes met Lex's. He was scared, Lex saw, and uncomfortable. Lex didn't blame him; Lionel was his father and he scared Lex.

"I brought my mom's soup recipe for Mabel. I was just running up to see if you were feeling any better."

Lionel snorted. "First he saves you, then he mars you, then he brings you soup. How sweet." He looked at Lex, his eyes full of scorn.

Lex dropped his eyes, blocking both his father and Clark out. He couldn't bear to look at either of them at the moment.

Turning back to Clark, Lionel said, "Thank you, Clark, for your kindness to my son. If it were up to me, I would give you... compensation for your exertions but I'm sure, once I'm gone, Lex will settle the account."

"Dad," Lex said sharply, his head snapping up. Lionel was treading too close to the line.

His father was looking... pleasant. As if he meant exactly what he said. Of course, he had years of experience, hiding his feelings and thoughts. Facial expression meant nothing on him.

Clark, on the other hand…

With a sickening lurch, Lex saw that Clark knew exactly what Lionel was saying. Jaw tight, eyes wide and hurt, Clark looked as if it took everything he had to hold himself together and keep from doing something terrible. Waves of anger and humiliation rolled off him, hitting Lex, making him feel dizzy with the excess of emotion. He tried not to stagger backwards, instead wrapping his arms around his chest and staying as still as he could.

"Now," Lionel said briskly, rubbing his hands together, "Lex and I are in the middle of something. I'm sure you have to run off to school. He and I have business to discuss."

"Of course," replied Clark stiffly; Lex knew he was holding back tears. Looking back to Lex, his eyes softened a touch in sympathy. "I'll talk to you later, Lex."

He nodded. "Bye Clark."

The sound of the door shutting was like the bang of a judge's gavel. The silence after stretched on for eternity as Lex waited for the ax to fall. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, struggling to breathe through the growing congestion and the tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with his illness.

He was caught. He had been caught and he hadn't even done anything. His father...

The blow caught him off guard. It was so hard it sent him reeling, smashing into his dressing table, knocking over his glass of water, and falling to the floor, head ringing.

"You idiot!"

"Dad…" Lex started, glancing up at his father, who was towering over him.

"Shut up," Lionel cut him off, raising his hand warningly.

Lex flinched, shutting his eyes. Lionel didn't believe in punishing in anger and never gave more than one slap per argument, but there was always a first.

A second blow didn't come. "Clark Kent? You're fucking Clark Kent?"

"No, I swe..."

"Shut up!" This time the hand did fall again, somehow catching Lex exactly in the same spot. "How old is he?"

Not sure if he should answer, Lex kept his eyes screwed shut and stayed silent. He drew his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He didn't want to hide his face, didn't want to look any more pathetic than he already did, on the floor, water dripping on his head, cowering before his father. And yet, out of his control, he buried his face in knees, closing in on himself as much as he could.

"High school, I know that much," Lionel answered his own question. "He looks older, except for his eyes. Like them innocent, don't you, Lex? Was he a virgin before you? What am I saying? Of course he was. How old? Lex?" A foot nudged him.

"Fifteen," he rasped, throat on fire. Turning his head, he cracked his eyes open to watch his father.

"Fifteen," Lionel repeated, eyes widening. "Jesus Christ." He sat on the bed, shoulders slumped, posture defeated. Once again, he reached out.

Lex cringed, trying to pull into himself, but this time the hand simply caressed his head, running soothingly down the nape of his neck and back up.

"Where did I go wrong with you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Lex couldn't help asking.

Ignoring him, Lionel continued, "Why? Why him? Are you lonely, is that it? Horny? I can get you the number of a very good escort service that has all types, Lex. They'll come out here for no extra charge. I'm sure they have some one that looks like him."

Lex laughed, or tried. The sound that came out was more like a seal's bark. "No thanks, Dad. I still have the number you gave me when I turned eighteen."

His father sighed and shook his head, still caressing Lex's head. "He's fifteen, Lex. What the hell are you thinking?"

Sensing his father was calmer, Lex uncurled from his defensive crouch, tossing the hand off. Sitting on the floor, he answered, "I don't know. I tried to stay away, but I just can't. He's too . . . perfect."

"No one is perfect."

"Well, Clark is close." Lex licked his lips. "He's the most honest person I've ever met and. . . and I think I need a little honesty in my life. Even if I can't be honest with him."

Lionel raised an eyebrow. "So you haven't told him about your colorful past, then."

"No."

"Are you planning to?"

Lex shrugged, looking at the floor. "It's not as bad as you think, Dad. We're not fucking."

"Don't lie to me . ."

"Dad! I swear we haven't done anything yet. I know the laws and I know that if we got caught, I'd get thrown in jail and not even you would be able to protect me. I'm trying to be careful, I swear."

"He just waltzed in here like he's completely comfortable with you, Lex. It's illegal to even do anything suggesting sex with a minor in this state. Especially between men. Anyone could see that your relationship with this boy isn't innocent."

Lex had no rebuttal. He had wanted to lie about all this, to hide the truth from his father. But, apparently, he couldn't. His father was reading him like an open book. Or, judging by his comments about Jonathan, perhaps he was rereading history. Lex didn't know.

Lionel sighed. "End this. End this before it begins, Lex. This is the Kents you're dealing with, and Jonathan Kent will give you hell when he finds out. And trust me, with a fifteen year old child involved, you do not want to be in a position of weakness with them if this gets exposed."

Lex laughed bitterly. "And if I were in a position of power?" It just slipped out before he even processed the thought.

His father looked impressed. And thoughtful. After a moment, he said slowly, "Everyone has their weaknesses. The Kent's will never hand you their son, but I supposed there are ways to maneuver them into a compromising position. One where you had power over them." His eyes sought out Lex's. "If you had Jonathan by the balls, owned his soul, you would be free to do what you wanted. Who you wanted." Lionel shook his head. "But, saying that, I still advise against it. The whole thing is more trouble than it's worth and farm boys can be very dangerous. But," and he smiled in a slightly sinister manner, "you are an adult."

"Oh, right. I'm an adult. That's why you rushed all the way out here to yell at me for getting sick. Maybe the reason I don't act adult enough for you is because you refuse to treat me like one." Turning away, Lex grabbed his juice off the dressing table and gulped it down.

He froze when Lionel touched the back of his neck gently, massaging his fevered skin. Goosebumps broke out as he meekly submitted to the unaccustomed caress, the second of the conversation. It had been a long time since his father had touched him in any way except the occasional slap. At eighteen, Lex had started pulling away from any move Dad had made towards him; he could never escape a blow, but once he flinched, anything else stopped. This was. . . different. Lex wasn't sure how he felt about it.

The hand ran over his head once more, then Lionel rose. Turning, Lex saw him pick the X-ray up and began walking to the door.

"Take the week off, Lex. The plant will be fine without you, as long as you are available for any emergencies."

"Gee, thanks Dad."

Lionel paused at the door. "Fuck your assistant or get a whore. Leave the locals alone." Then, in a softer tone, he added, "Feel better soon." Before Lex could say anything, he left.

Lex sighed, crawling into bed and under his covers. Of all the things to happen, Dad had to find out about Clark. And before they even got to have any real fun.

"Give him up? Stay the course? Or manipulate the Kents?" Lex broke off, coughing hard. Rolling onto his stomach, he saw he was out of juice and water.

Everything sucked. Lex wanted to cry.

Slapping the button to call Damien, Lex made a decision. "Juice first. Then life decisions." Made sense to him.

***

"Lex?" a soft voice whispered in his ear. Someone touched his face very gently, caressing his smooth skin before pulling away.

Lex whimpered softly as he was dragged out of sleep by his favorite voice. Stretching, he rolled over to get closer to the warm body leaning on the bed.

There was gentle laughter that washed over Lex intimately, sending delicious shivers through him.

"You're going to roll off the bed."

"Then ged in so I won't fall off. This is Clark I'm talking to, righd?" Lex responded, not opening his eyes.

"Yes, it is. Scoot over."

Lex did, a pleased smile spreading over his face. He heard the thump of shoes hitting the floor. Then a blast of cold air hit him as the covers were pulled back, followed by a body sliding in next to him.

Rolling onto his side, Lex opened his eyes. "Why is my face cold?" he asked Clark, shivering at the clammy coldness against his cheek.

The boy smiled. "Because you rolled onto a cold compress. Here." He picked it from under Lex's cheek and placed it on the dressing table. Turning back, he asked, "How do you feel?" His fingers gently spread over the planes of Lex's face, caressing his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, gently skirting the sore spot on his right cheek, then over his lips and chin.

"A little better, I guess. Nod much, though." He coughed, then sneezed. "Don'd tell anyone. I don'd wand Damiend to call the doctor."

Clark looked confused. "Why not?" he asked innocently, reminding Lex of a child who still believes in Santa Claus and doesn't understand why their parents are putting presents under the tree.

"Because if Damiend things I'm sick enough for a doctor, then I mighd be hospital sick. And I don'd wand to be hospital sick."

After gazing at Lex's face a moment worriedly, Clark pulled the covers off Lex and looked at his chest. An incredibly deep look of concentration entered his eyes. They seemed to widen and expand, almost as if he were looking right through Lex.

Lex prided himself on not blushing easily. But... the intensity that Clark was studying him with was incredible. Waves of warmth brought on by being the object of so much attention began to spread through him, his face flushing and toes curling. He felt like an idiot, but he found he was feeling like that a lot around Clark.

"I don't think you're hospital sick," Clark finally announced. He beamed sunnily into Lex's eyes as he drew the covers over them again and pulled Lex to him.

Lex returned the smile slowly, feeling lazy and a bit evil. "Why, Clark. Did you come over to play doctor with me?"

True to form, the teen's face turned bright red. He buried his face in Lex's shoulder, hiding. "Geeze, Lex," came the muffled groan.

He man smiled and kissed Clark's ear. "I'm sorry," he said, not feeling sorry at all. Kissing along the side of Clark's face, he gently pushed at the teen, urging him to roll onto his back.

Clark complied, drawing Lex into his arms and accepting the kiss offered. He began stroking Lex's back, massaging his tired muscles through the tee shirt he was wearing before slipping underneath to rub soothing circles on the skin below.

Lex sighed and relaxed against the warm body. Most of the time, he didn't cuddle. In fact, it was the part he like the least about having sex. But, this was Clark. It was different.

"I'm sorry," Clark said softly, kissing his forehead.

"What for?"

"I got us caught, didn't I? I got you hit." His lips brushed over the sore spot on Lex's face.

Lex shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You didn't do anything but be yourself."

"If I could just, I don't know, stop blushing. Or lie to adults, or something. Then maybe things wouldn't get so messed up. But I can't. Your dad saw right through me."

"Dad sees right through everyone. Even me." Lex kissed Clark, sucking on his lower lip. "I'm serious, Clark. Don't worry about it. I'll worry about Dad; you just do what you want."

Clark lowered his eyebrows. "What do you suppose he meant about my dad? I didn't even know they knew each other."

"Have you asked him?"

Clark shook his head. "I didn't know how to bring it up. I thought about it when I got home from school, but I didn't know what to say. Besides, I really wanted to come over and see you. I was worried all day."

Lex was oddly touched. He knew it was showing on his face, but he tried to pretend it wasn't there. Dropping his gaze to Clark's chest, he traced along Clark's collarbone. "Don't worry about me and Dad. This," he showed Clark his slightly bruised cheek, "is nothing. A little bid of firm discipline. Dad doesn't beat me anymore; he prefers to fence with me. Life's a competition, now; the days of him showing dominance over me through physical punishments are long gone."

"He… he beat you?" Clark's voice was a small, scared whisper.

The older man blinked. "Well, yeah. Why, your parents never hit you?"

"Never." He licked his lips. "Was it bad?"

Lex shrugged. "I guess. I don't know; it was life. Id's how my misbehavior was punished. It was all very formal, too. Dad would decide my punishment a day before, since he didn't believe in punishing in anger. I would be in my room until he was ready, then be marched out with one of the servants to Dad's office. He'd pull out the paddle, ask me to tell him why I was there, then proceed to spank me. That part never bothered me."

"It didn't?"

"No. The parts that bother me are the occasional slap when he loses control and . .and the unpredictability factor. Dad likes keeping me on my toes. Sometimes he'll slap me for no reason, like the time I told him I was at the top of my class. And sometimes, he'll caress my cheek for no reason, like the time I got caught fucking the headmaster's daughter. That's what bothers me."

Clark kissed Lex's forehead, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." He sighed. "Dad was in a mood anyway. He hates it when I get sick. It's always such a fucking production. So he came down to scream at me, saw the bruises, and then you walked in and he jumped to conclusions."

"But he was right."

"Yeah, but he didn't know that, did he?"

The teen ran his hands up and down Lex's sides. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I don't want to ever hurt you and I did. I'm so sorry." His hands, so warm against Lex's skin, stroked his back.

Lex shuddered at the caress. "Clark," he whispered gently, growing hard, pressing slightly into Clark's hip.

Clark froze. "Sorry." He didn't sound scared, just . . .sorry.

"Don't stop. I don't care," Lex told him, burying his face in Clark's neck, lapping at the skin. He began to move against the boy, rubbing himself against the body beneath his.

"Lex," Clark gasped, his body arching into Lex's, "you're sick."

Lex's hand slid under Clark's shirt as he pushed harder, moving so their cocks were pressed together. Clark, he discovered with a pleasant jolt, was hard as well. "I don't care," he panted back, "I've been sleeping all day. I want to play."

"But you can hardly breath," Clark protested weakly, his hands sliding to grasp Lex by the hips. He was grinding his cock against Lex, tangling their legs, eyes closed, mouth open. His brain and mouth were protesting while his body automatically responded to the stimulus.

Lex didn't much care what Clark's brain said, just as long as the body catered to his needs. "I don't care." Lex closed his eyes, fingers finding Clark's nipple and squeezing.

Clark gasped and arched again, body thrusting into Lex. He moaned as the older man ground their cocks together harder, their hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, Clark," moaned Lex, his head falling against Clark's chest. He thrust his hips against Clark, pushing himself up to lap at Clark's sweat-salted neck. Sweat was beading on his forehead, his breath coming hard. He didn't care that breath was hard to come by; he was horny and he needed this. Needed Clark.

Without warning, Clark rolled over so he was on top. Lex gasped in surprise, hands threading in Clark's thick black hair, holding tightly.

Releasing Lex's hips, Clark propped himself with his elbows above Lex's body. Somehow, their hips not only didn't lose contact, but never lost their rhythm. Clark's fingers were grasping the sheets convulsively, kneading in the bed in time to his gasps of pleasure.

Lex was moaning, trying to get more contact. He needed more, much more.

The demand slipped out before he could process the thought. "Touch me, Clark."

Clark froze, halting the rhythm. He opened his eyes, gazing into Lex's.

Lex felt half crazed with frustration and desire. There was too much clothing between them, and Clark's jeans were driving him insane. But the look in Clark's eyes was enough to bring him back to a measure of sanity.

Wide and nervous, dark blue with desire and a hint of trepidation.

Lex cursed internally. It was because he was sick, he was sure, that he was out of control. Normally, he would have been thinking and he would have remembered that Clark was unsure about their sexual relationship. He was getting comfortable with kisses and cuddling, but anything more was unexplored territory. Lex wanted more, but he wanted Clark to be with him and definitely didn't want to scare him off.

He was about to apologize and take it back when Clark sat up, throwing the blankets off them. The first thing he did was shuck off his jeans and tee shirt, leaving only his boxers. The boxers were tented nicely, Lex was pleased to see as his eyes feasted hungrily on the bulge.

Licking his lips, Clark placed his slightly shaking hands at the waistband of Lex's pajama bottoms.

"You don't have to," Lex felt compelled to whisper hoarsely, voice roughened with desire and sickness.

Clark nodded. "I know. And... and I want to." He slid the bottoms down, over Lex's narrow hips, down his legs, tossing them onto the floor.

Then he sat back on the bed, studying Lex through lust heavy eyes.

Lex, clad now only in a long sleeved tee shirt, damp with sweat, laid passive under Clark's gaze. He had long since stopped being embarrassed by his body's pathetic attempt at pubic hair. It was, in his opinion, better than that strange, tufts that his chest sometimes sprouted. Like the chest hair had been, his pubic hair grew sparsely, a strange mixture of red and pale blond, leaving him nearly bald. The radiation from the meteor rocks hadn't left him completely hairless, just nearly so. Anything that hadn't been directly exposed grew in thinly and rather pathetically.

When he first began fucking everything in sight, people had been put off by the strangeness. Some were repulsed, some were turned on, but all comment on how they were doing him a favor by even touching him. That was, until Lex grew so skilled and his reputation so widespread among the club scene that people stopped caring. Or, at least they stopped talking about it.

And Lex convinced himself he didn't care that he was a freak. And he didn't, not really.

But… this was Clark. It was different. And Lex was suddenly terrified that Clark might be scared or put off or…

Repulsed.

Licking his lips, Lex was about to say something, his heart hammering with a feeling that had nothing to do with desire, when Clark wrapped his large hand around Lex and just. Held.

Lex released a shuddering gasp, relief flooding him at Clark's acceptance.

"You ok?" Clark asked softly, looking into his eyes.

He nodded. "Yeah," he replied quietly, licking his lips. "I was afraid . . ."

"I know."

Surprised, he asked, "How?"

Clark moved his hand to gently stroke the hairs at the base of Lex's cock. "You're usually so good at hiding things, Lex. When you can't, it shows."

Lex shuddered as Clark's fingers continued to stroke the sensitive skin, brushing the wiry hairs lightly. "Do you want to know why?"

"If you want to tell me, I do."

He took a deep breath. "I was in the cornfield when the meteors came. The same one you were tied in. I saw… I saw that year's scarecrow and… and if that wasn't frightening enough, down came the rocks from heaven. To punish me for being so afraid of everything. I lost my hair, except for what my arm covered on my face."

Clark's other hand traced Lex's eyebrows, then his lashes, pale blond mixed with very light red. "And the rest?"

"It's there, obviously, but it's weak. My clothes didn't protect me much, so my body has trouble producing hair."

"I'm so sorry," Clark told him, sounding distressed. He trailed his hand down Lex's cheek, chest, down to his legs, stroking his thigh. His other hand remained at Lex's cock, wrapping around it once more.

Lex smiled sadly. "It's not your fault."

Clark shook his head. "I know," he whispered. But Lex heard him think, "Yes, it is."

He thought about asking, but decided he didn't want to explain. Right now he had a slight advantage in this relationship and he wanted to keep it that way. Lex needed to keep it that way. So, he simply said, "I've learned to deal with it. But, it doesn't bother you, right?"

By way of answer, Clark began to slowly pump his hand. Lex bit back a moan at the friction, his hips rising slightly. Fighting the urge to close his eyes and simply surrender, Lex kept them locked on Clark's, needing to watch, needing to know what would happen.

Clark began to stroke faster, tightening his fist sporadically, sending shivers through Lex. One finger stroked the weeping head, fingering the slit. An almost curious expression was on Clark's face.

Lex groaned, his body bucking.

Clark froze. "Am I doing this right?"

"Yes," Lex whimpered. His eyes fell shut against his will.

Bolder now, Clark's fingers began playing on the head of Lex's cock. He tapped very gently, jolts shuddering through the harden member, causing Lex to grunt and thrust, trying to get more pressure. But Clark moved his hands to his pelvis, forcing Lex back down, before going back to torture the overly sensitive skin of Lex's cock.

"Clark." He twisted his hips, trying to urge his tormenter on.

"Do you like that?" Clark asked, fingernails gently scraping down the length of his shaft, wet tips probing his sack.

"Yes!" Lex shouted, half answering the question, half crying out in pleasure. His eyes flew open to lock on Clark's face.

Clark was flushed, his mouth hanging open as he watched Lex write beneath him. The porcelain skin looked rosy and lovely, wanton lust etched over Clark's face. His eyes were intent on what he was doing, his entire concentration focused on giving Lex pleasure.

The thought, the look on Clark's face, made Lex's entire body shudder. "Fuck, Clark," he moaned, his head thrashing on the pillow as he tried to thrust up again.

"Lex," Clark whispered roughly, playing with the name on his tongue. He wrapped his hand around Lex's cock again and began to tighten and relax his fingers, starting from his pinky to his index finger and down. Ripples of pleasure ran through Lex's cock, causing his body to stiffen and shudder.

"More," Lex grunted, his hips writhing on the sheets. Linen, today, instead of silk and damn if he didn't wish he had insisted on silk, no matter how cold and clammy it would have made him. It would be easier to slide on, easier to force Clark to move to his rhythm.

"You want more?" Clark asked.

"Yes," he hissed, opening his eyes to watch Clark toy with him, caress his fevered flesh, tease him beyond rational thought.

And then, open his mouth and swallow Lex whole.

Taken off guard, Lex stiffened. Clark inhaled nosily around his mouthful, before he swallowed, drawing Lex deeper inside him. Then, he raised his eyes to look into Lex's.

That sent the sick man over the edge. Without warning and with no control, he came in hot spurts.

Clark jerked away in surprise, trying to swallow the viscous fluid in his mouth, but most of it spraying onto his chin. He began coughing violently, gagging on the sudden and unexpected semen trying to force its way into him.

Panting for air, Lex shot up. The thrill of the release and the embarrassment for almost drowning Clark caused him to lose his breath, hacking hard into his hand. "Fuck," he managed to get out. "Shit, Clark, I'm so sorry." He was humiliated, the flush of shame and mortification rushing through him in a tidal wave of heat. Normally, he was the paragon at control; he had spent hours, days even, learning the essential art of prolonging the moment and controlling when he came.

Clark, with his innocent eroticism and surprising actions, combined with Lex's illness, never gave him a chance.

The teen was wiping him mouth, shaking his head. "It's ok," he rasped, through his coughs.

"No, it's not," Lex told him. He started to reach out to touch Clark, but changed his mind, grasping the sheets instead. "I should have warned you. Given you a chance to get ready. Or nod fucking comb in your mouth the first time. Jesus, Clark. . .I'm sorry."

Lex suddenly found himself wrapped in strong arms, lips kissing his face, his head, his neck. "Lex, it's ok," Clark whispered. "You didn't scare me off, I'm not running away. Yeah, I was taken off guard, but I should have warned you what I was going to do. You're sick and probably not in very good control over everything right now. It's fine."

Then Lex heard him think, "I don't want to lose you."

He relaxed. Clark wasn't scared. Running his hands through Clark's hair, he said softly, "You're sure, Clark? Because I want you so badly and I don't want to move too fast."

"You still want me?"

"Of course." Lex kissed Clark's ear, running his tongue around the shell before tugging on the lobe gently.

Clark's body relaxed against his. "Good." He sighed and lay back down, pulling the covers over them. "Did I… did I do it right?" he asked shyly.

"You did id perfectly," Lex told him. "Where on earth did you learn? I've never seen someone take so much in their first time. That was your first time, right?"

"Yeah, it was." The hands began petting Lex again, as if he couldn't quite get enough of feeling the older man. "I just… well, I was looking on the Internet and..."

"You went on a porn site?" Lex guessed.

Clark went still, before answering, "Yeah, I did. Don't tell my parents."

"I won't," replied Lex, wondering why Clark was lying to him. What did it matter where he found out how to give a blow job?

 _"Thank you, Chloe,"_ he heard Clark think.

Now, what did that mean? Lex wondered. Then, listening to Clark a little more, he wondered what the hell slash was.

But that wasn't as important as Lex's own thought that intruded that moment. "What abound you?"  
"What about me what?"

Lex rolled over, propping himself on his elbows so he could look at Clark. "First rule of sex is that everyone gets to come." Then, in response to the strange expression that crossed his lover's face, "What?"

"I'm just wondering if I want to know what situation you've been in that requires that 'everyone' comes and not both people come."

Once again Lex had to remind himself that he didn't blush. And yet, there he was. Blushing. "Uh. You probably don't." Licking his lips, he asked, "What do you want me to do, Clark?"

Clark still blushed more. His face turned bright red and he wouldn't meet Lex's eyes. "Uh. . .well, I don't want you blowing me."

"Nod ready?"

"Lex, you can't breathe through your nose. You'd kill yourself."

"Ah. Good point." He raised an eyebrow. "So? What do you want?"

The teen took a deep breath and licked his lips. "I... I want you to touch me. My... my c-cock."

This time, Lex was certain Clark was glowing with embarrassment.

There was lotion among the various medications and sundries on Lex's dressing table. He pumped some into his hand while he tugged Clark's boxers down with the other.

Clark was so nervous it was making Lex dizzy. But it was anticipatory nervous, not fear. Clark wanted this and Lex was going to keep going unless he was told to stop. Out loud. Mental messages didn't count in sex.

He was uncircumcised, which surprised Lex. He couldn't remember the last time he had been with a guy who wasn't. Lex thought it was standard procedure in Kansas to circumcise every boy born in the hospital. Well, Clark was adopted; maybe he wasn't from Kansas. Still, American males with foreskins were few and far between. And, like everything about Clark, his cock was beautiful. It made Lex hungry to have it in him. But not now.

Starting at the tip, he ran his hand down Clark's length, slicking the member with the lotion. Clark moaned softly, fingers digging into the sheets. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling quickly, a flush of passion lighting his luminous skin.

Lex gently pushed the foreskin back, fingering the damp tip. He stroke the head of the hard cock, firmly and picking up speed. Clark's hips began to jerk, trying to get more. Each time they did, a sound escaped his throat, filling the air with the sound of an Innocent losing himself in passion.

The older man began to stroke Clark's full length, pumping faster and faster. Unable to resist, he bent over, running his tongue over the head of Clark's cock before very gently taking Clark's foreskin between his lips and toying it.

"Fu... fuck!" Clark shouted, his body stiffening.

Lex was certain he was going to come, and pulled back so he didn't drown in semen. But Clark managed to hold back. Lifting an eyebrow, Lex leaned forward, sucked for a moment on the swollen head, then pulled back. He really couldn't breathe.

Settling more comfortably between Clark's legs, he ran his hands from crown to root over Clark's cock, before wrapping one hand around the base. Keeping the lotion slicked hand around the length, Lex began to rotate Clark's cock while stroking it at the same time.

"Ah. . ." Clark groaned, writhing wantonly on the sheets. Sweat was beading on his skin; a drop rolled down the center of his chest. Lex leaned forward and licked the drop, sliding his tongue to Clark's nipple. He released the cock, trapping it between their bodies, grinding against it as he lapped at the small, pebbled rocks of Clark's nipples.

The boy grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging painfully into Lex's skin. It was good pain, though, and Lex hardened at the touch. Small, almost desperate sounds escaped Lex as he worked both himself and the boy, pleasure shuddering through him. Shifting, Lex thrust their cocks together, feeling their groins connect, skin on skin, sliding over each other.

"Lex," Clark whimpered, thrusting his body into Lex's, their cocks colliding once more. He tightened his grip on Lex's shoulders, then let go, grasping the sheets once more. There was a ripping sound that Lex ignored, sensing that his lover was close to coming.

He licked Clark's lower lip, sliding his tongue in to caress Clark's upper palate.

That sent Clark over the edge. He stiffened and shouted, coming hard. There was another tearing sound; it sounded the like the sheets.

Near to coming himself, Lex ground himself against Clark's sweaty body once more and came for the second time He hoped that Clark wouldn't mind that he came twice. He was too tired to do any more.

Panting and gasping, Clark dragged Lex up to kiss him, rolling so Clark was on top. Clark's kiss was frantic and hungry, his tongue brutally ravaging Lex's mouth. He sucked and nibbled Lex's lips until they were swollen and sore, Lex moaning into Clark's mouth, his body limp and sated from orgasm.

Gradually, Clark calmed down. The tension released from his body, a flood of joy and exhaustion strumming through him, making his heart sing against Lex's chest. His kissed became gentle and fluid, soft and sweet.

Lex pushed into the kisses, holding Clark's slick body tightly. Clark had the perfect body to just hold and melt against. He felt strong and safe and his body curved against Lex's perfectly.

Clark ended the kiss, resting their forehead together. "That was nice."

A smile curved Lex's lips and he asked, adding just the right mix of knowing and hurt into his voice, "Just nice?"

He blushed and kissed Lex between the eyes. "Better than nice. It was . . . amazing. I've never done anything like that before."

Lex smiled, kissing Clark's cheek. "I know. And id only gets better."

Clark grinned. "I'm glad it'll get better with you, Lex. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else." He raised an ironic eyebrow. "I think you've ruined me for life."

"No, you're just young. Righd now you think you just want me, but as you get older, you'll want more," he said, a trifle sadly. "Thad's the way life goes. I . . ."

There was a sudden knock at the door. "Sir?" Damien called.

"Shit!" Clark swore, tearing himself away from Lex. His hands began frantically searching for his clothes, eyes wide with fear.

"One second, Damiend," Lex called calmly, watching Clark.

"I can't..." Clark gasped, "I can't have him walking in here and seeing me like this."

Lex found his pajama's and pulled them on. "I understand; you're barely comfortable with me seeing you naked. Damien would be a whole different story."

Clark found his boxers and slid them on. "And I'm just not ready for anyone finding out about us. I mean, I know there's that whole closet thing, but I'm just not ready to get into all that yet."

"Or out?"

He smiled ruefully, at least. "Or out." Pulling his jeans on, Clark gazed seriously at Lex. "I just came out to myself as it is. I'm not ready to share any of this with anyone but you." The shirt went over his head.

Clark definitely had a way with words. He knew exactly what to say to take the sting out of the forced secrecy. Not that Lex thought they could be out in the open at this moment, but Damien wouldn't say anything so Lex didn't care what he knew. But Clark wasn't ready, and Clark was the one who had to dictate the parameters of the relationship. And so, no Damien.

"Can I call him in?" Lex asked after Clark was dressed.

Running a hand through his hair, trying to blot the remaining sweat out, Clark nodded, sitting in a chair by the bed.

"Comb in, Damiend."

His assistant walked in. His dark, discerning eyes fastened on the bed, taking in the rumpled and obviously damp sheets. He raised an eyebrow at Lex, who was damp and rumpled himself. Lex simply gazed back at him through blank eyes.

Wisely, Damien did not look at the furiously blushing teenager.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but the maids must clean the room now. I've had the couch in the entertainment room made up. Your soup is ready and waiting for you. It is also time you took your medicine," Damien informed him, ignoring the obvious sent of sex in the air.

Lex nodded. "Very well. Clark, cane you get my robe for me?"

"Yeah, sure." Clark walked to the closet while Damien administered the foul tasting cough medicine and handed Lex a variety of different pills.

Lex got out of bed, tugging his sweat and semen dampened shirt off. "Will you stay?" Lex asked Clark as he pulled the robe on. With a last nod at Damien from Lex, they left the bedroom

Once they were out of sight from everyone, Clark slipped his hand into Lex's.

"For a while longer. I have some homework I need to get to."

"Don't fail any classes because of me."

Clark squeezed his hand. "I won't."

The entertainment room was warm and comfortable. A humidifier had been set up in the corner. The couch, big enough for two to snuggle on, was made up, looking comfortable and inviting. Lex was feeling exhausted after his exertions. Next to the table was a dinner tray with a tureen of soup, two bowls, a pitcher of juice, tea, crackers, and a flower in a crystal vase. Mabel did nothing half-assed, not even a sick tray.

"Sit." Clark ordered, pushing Lex into the makeshift bed. Once Lex was lying down, he pulled the covers to his chest and turned to the tray.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Are you getting off on this? Taking care of me?"

Ladling some soup into a bowl, Clark sat on the couch next to Lex. Eyes twinkling and his mouth turning up at the corners, the teen answered, "Not at all. Now eat up." He filled the spoon and offered it to Lex.

The sick man obediently opened his mouth and sipped the soup offered by his lover. Then he took the spoon and bowl away. "I'm not a child."

"Fine." Clark sat on the couch, wiggling so his butt was next to the back and his legs were draped over Lex's. Picking up the remote control, he turned the television on.

Lex ate his soup hungrily; his and Clark's little tryst had worked an appetite. Even though he couldn't really taste the soup, he drank it down ravenously, hoping there was more in the tureen that Damien had set on the table.

"Do you want to take a shower before you go?" he asked Clark as the boy idly scratched the drying semen on his stomach.

"Naw, I'll wait. I know I'm sweaty and stuff, but my parents will wonder why I'm coming home shower fresh."

"You can tell them you went swimming."

Clark glanced at him and smiled. "It's fine."

A squiggle squirmed its way around Lex's stomach in response to the smile. He returned it, trying to feel happy. Trying to feel clean and honest, and, well, Clark-like. But he couldn't. Not when his father's voice was suddenly screaming in his head, asking why he was getting deeper and deeper into this Clark mess and not getting out.

When Lionel found out that Lex was actually getting closer to sleeping with Clark rather than ending it, he would have Lex's head. Especially if Lex didn't find away to get some degree of power in the situation.

Sighing, Lex returned to his soup, sniffing as the steam began to make his nose run. Without a word, Clark handed him a tissue, then passed the box from the table next to him. The sick man accept it and wiped.

"Clark," he asked, feeling a little better as the congestion cleared, "what did you mean yesterday when you said your parents were having trouble?"

"Huh?" Clark tore his eyes away from the TV. to look at Lex again. He shrugged, and answered, "It's just money trouble. We're a small, self sufficient farm and we just don't have enough income to cover all the bases. They've been going over the books to see if we're going to be good for this quarter or not."

"Do you run into trouble often?"

"Sometimes. More often than not. We have a few bank loans and the interest isn't doing us any good. It's a common problem around here. There's a competitive market and we just can't compete."

Lex thoughtfully ate some more soup. He leaned to the table to pour juice, but Clark beat him to it, pouring a glass before handing it to him. "Thank you." Lex sipped it, then asked, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Clark poured himself some juice and sat back.

"Is there any money set aside for you for college?"

Clark shrugged, a flush coloring his skin. "They try, but we need the money to eat and for clothes and stuff. Some of it got used during my growth spurt and to replace equipment that I--that got broken. I don't know how much is left."

"That's awful."

"That's life, Lex." He flashed a reassuring smile at Lex. "Besides, maybe I'll get a scholarship or something."

"But not to have a good future sed. To leave it so uncertain.. it isn't fair."

Clark snorted. "They took me in. What more can I ask of them?"

Lex looked at him in astonishment; Clark sounded so… resigned. And sad. "They love you, Clark," he said softly.

"Yeah, I know," Clark replied. "But sometimes I just think… I think that maybe if I hadn't come, things would be better. For them, for the whole town." Waves of anxiety rolled off him, and trepidation. Guilt. None of it made any sense to Lex.

He looked at Clark, head tilted. "You're making it sound like you're responsible for everything wrong in this town."

Clark just shrugged.

"Don't go all teenage-angsty on me, Clark. It doesn't become you."

Clark chewed on his lower lip before sighing. "Yeah, I know that everything's not all my fault, but sometimes it feels like it. And my parents have sacrificed a lot for me. I don't feel like I have a right to ask them to ensure they give me something. I can make my own future, that doesn't worry me. What worries me is that my parents wind up comfortable."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Seriously, Clark? You're the best son ever." He set the empty soup bowl aside, stretching.

Clark grinned, crawling across the sofa so he could kiss Lex. Settling next to him in the space between Lex's body and the back of the couch, Clark whispered, "Thanks, Lex. You know just what to say to make a guy feel special."

Lex dropped a kiss on top of Clark's soft hair. "And you know just what to do to make me feel special."

"You are."

A warm flower blossomed somewhere in the vicinity of Lex's heart and he smiled, feeling content as a cat on a summer's day. "Thank you," he whispered softly, not wanting Clark to hear.

But, judging by the way Clark's arm snaked around his waist to hold him tightly, Lex suspected that he had.

* * *

 

"Sir? Your bedroom is ready if you would like to return," Damien said.

Lex opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. "Where's Clark?" he asked sleepily, sitting up.

"Mr. Kent returned home about an hour ago, sir. He didn't want to wake you."

"Ah." Lex got off the couch, yawning. "Is there any more soup?" he asked, heading back to his bedroom.

"I believe so, sir. I'll have more sent up." He hesitated. "How are you feeling?"

Lex cleared his throat and nodded. "Better. I can breathe."

Damien nodded. "Good. It looks like the worst has passed. I had the maids set up the second humidifier in your room, just in case." He was silent again before saying, "I stripped the bed before they got in your room, sir. I just thought you might like to know."

He grinned and nodded his head. "That's why you get the big money, Damien. Thank you."

"The, uh, sheets were ripped and had to be thrown away."

"Yes, I heard them go. Clark is nothing if not strong." He coughed. "I need you to do some research for me. On the Kent family farm. I want you to find any information about the farm, the land, the kind of business they do, everything."

"Are you thinking of buying the lands, sir?" He took the robe Lex shrugged off, handing him the shirt that had been laid out on the bed.

Pulling the shirt on, Lex shook his head. "No. I'm going to invest." Lex climbed into bed, settling back against the pillows.

Damien's expression was, as always, inscrutable. Nodding tightly, he said, "Very good, sir. I'll have that by tomorrow evening."

Lex nodded, pulling the covers to his chest. "Thank you, Damien." After his assistant left, Lex snuggled down in bed, a warm wave of exhaustion settling over him. He would come out on top in all of this, he knew. He would have Clark, he'd help the Kents out with their money troubles, and he'd find a way to make a little pocket money off the whole deal. Even his father couldn't come up with anything better.

That's why Lex was the genius and his father was just some guy who owned his ass. For now.


End file.
